


How to accidentally a family

by Aijja



Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 01:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12972405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aijja/pseuds/Aijja
Summary: How Clint quits SHIELD at an early age, and then happens to stumble into an ownership of a farm, some animals and children. It's all an accident really. Everything is fine, if little lonely, before Nat calls in a favour and then Clint is just happy that his kids are away for the summer.





	How to accidentally a family

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for the Winterhawk Bigbang Reverse challenge. It's nonsense and happy feelings and nothing bad will happen. The art and inspiration was done by the wonderful [Placna](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12944664)  
> Cheerleading and editing by [Tanouska](http://tanouska.tumblr.com/) and [AvaKelly](https://intermittently-ava.tumblr.com/)
> 
> All the bad jokes by me.

Clint is 8 when his parents die. He’s 9 when he runs away with Barney and 11 when he picks the bow up for the first time.

You all know how it goes from there.

He’s 17 when Barney and Trickshot leave him. As a goodbye present he gets three broken ribs and a bullet wound to his shoulder. Year after that; he’s sneaking around, infiltrating and taking on contracts. Clint swears to himself it’s not the same as what his brother and mentor did. He has ethics, he swears, as he puts a bullet in the brain of a drug trafficker. He’s making the world a better place, he whispers, as his arrow flies and a human trafficker falls overboard of his yacht.

You know how it goes from here.

He’s 20 when a bland looking man in a suit chases him for a month and then shoots him in the thigh. Clint curses loudly but doesn’t cry, instead falls a little bit in love.

When he’s 21 he’s officially on SHIELD’s roster. Year later he doesn’t follow orders. Instead he follows a redheaded teenager and saves her life. And his. Year after that and they’re unstoppable, Team Delta.

It all ends with a bomb.

They give Clint hearing aids and assure him that he’s still capable, can still work. But Clint says no. He has had time to think about his life while in the hospital. Running around and shooting people isn’t something he wants to do anymore. He wants to try something more normal, something that won’t end with him dead before his 30th birthday. They give him a pension (huge in Clint’s opinion) and he goes on a roadtrip with Phil and Nat. Two weeks later he signs the deal to a farm, in Iowa, a few hundred miles away from where he was born. Nat sighs and refuses to come to visit until he has running water and electricity. Phil smiles and buys him DIY books and helps him get in touch with an engineer who gives him instructions. Clint vows to do everything he can by himself but Phil convinces him to get electricity and plumbing done by a pro. So at age 25 he’s standing and waving Phil away from the rotting porch of his own home. A homeowner with nothing more exciting in his future except fixing the house. No more bullets to dodge, the thought is surprisingly nice in its mundanity. Before anything else, he makes coffee with a trangia. 

A week later he’s outside, measuring, sawing and sanding boards to replace the old ones on the stairs. It’s a hazard going upstairs at the moment and the electricians refused to finish their job unless something was done. So, Clint is getting something done.

“What’sa doing?” A voice screeches and Clint jumps into air, spins around and whacks himself with the saw. Thankfully, it’s not the sharp edge and it just hurts but doesn’t bleed. 

“Au! What the fuck?” Clint looks at the saw that betrayed him and then at the source of his disruption. It’s a girl. A little girl that’s laughing with hands on her face, shoulders shaking. 

“Why did you do that?” The girl asks.

“Because you scared me! Hasn’t anyone told you not to sneak up on people?” Clint complains, eyes searching for an adult to save him.

“I didn’t! But you didn’t answer me the first time and that’s why I yelled,” she squeals, and that's when his new hearing aids decide to pick up in full volume. With a wince he covers his ears. “Sorry.” She throws her hands to her mouth again. 

“It’s okay,” Clint sighs and uncovers his ears. Now that he’s not shitting his pants anymore, he takes a closer look at the girl. She has black hair in a ponytail, big brown eyes and red cheeks. Purple t-shirt with a horse on it and jean shorts. She has bruises and scrapes on her knees but the girl doesn’t seem to notice them. 

“Whatcha doing here anyway? You look small. Shouldn’t you be with your parents or something?” Clint asks, rubbing his head. It smarts. He had thought the question was innocent but to his horror her eyes fill up with tears and her lips tremble.

“NO! I hate Dad and I’m running away!” She screams and his hearing aids screech again. A second look and Clint notices the purple backpack. His heart clenches.

“That sounds bad. Want to come inside and have…” he thinks quickly. What does he have that could entice a little girl? Clint winces. That sounded way too perverted, he wants to slap himself. “I have ice-cream. Should give you a boost for the trip.”

“I’m not supposed to follow strangers to their homes.” The girl looks suspicious. Smart kid then.

“That’s a good policy. My name is Clint, and you don’t have to come inside. It’s a smart thing not to trust strangers.” He tries to save himself. “But I’d like to tell you about the time I ran away from home.” The girl looks intrigued.

“I’m sitting on the porch and if you try anything I’m kicking you,” she says with conviction. 

“Sounds good.” 

Half an hour later he knows her name is Kate and her Dad is stupid because he’s always gone. She doesn’t have a mother but does have a nanny. She doesn’t like her because she will go away like all the others. Kate wants a pony but can’t have one until she’s 13 and can take care of it by herself. Clint sympathises and tells her he wants a dog. Or two. He tells her about how his parents died, and she pats his hand. Tells about the circus, or at least a PG version of it. Doesn’t tell her how it all ends, just tells her that he isn’t sure it was worth it. She listens and sniffles and eats all of his ice-cream, after watching him taste it to make sure it wasn’t poisonous. After another half hour he gets up and goes inside to return the spoon and throw the rubbish in the bin. Then he takes her home. Her nanny comes running, crying and laughing and speaking in swedish as she hugs her tight. No, norwegian, Clint decides. He’s invited inside for coffee and an explanation. He accepts and it’s nice, comfy. He also thinks the babysitter, Greta, is flirting with him but he has always had a hard time telling when people are. Clint leaves them waving at him from the porch of the big and fancy farmhouse and goes back to his own rundown one. 

A week later she’s back. This time with a note from her nanny that it’s ok for her to be there and to bring her home before 6 pm. He looks down at her, blinking in confusion. She grins at him and declares that they’re going to paint his porch because it’s ugly. He tells her no, because he’s doing the kitchen floor right now. But if she wants she can help him with sanding. Kate pouts but agrees to work with ice-cream sandwiches as salary. 

A week later he rescues a puppy from the side of the road and names it Lucky because it was lucky he didn’t hit it with his truck. He’s always been a softie.

A week after getting Lucky settled, he opens the front door to find Kate with a crying boy around her age, cowering behind her. He has a black eye and is hiding his face into her shoulder, sniffling. Clint’s heart breaks and he ushers them in. 

A month later he’s fighting to get certified as a foster home. He’s told no. Clint yells and begs and pleads but isn’t successful. His home is a mess and not fit for kids. Clint is also an unemployed single man with a sketchy past. He goes back to Kate and Greta, who are sympathetic but no one knows what to do. 

A month from that and his house is deemed appropriate for living. Six months later he proudly presents his papers and proof of employment to the Agency. He works three days a week at a local gun range, once a week holds archery lessons for kids of different ages and is also a substitute for a few schools in need of gym teachers. It’s almost not enough but then he gets mysterious recommendation letters from a discrete alphabet agency. That’s finally enough and little Casey moves in with him. They have Kate over as they paint his room blue and green. The furniture is homemade, second hand, or from IKEA but Casey loves it. Lucky takes to sleeping on the beanbag next to Casey’s bed. 

Six months later Casey, Kate and their friend Alec run in, straight from school, yelling at him to save Alec’s goat. Clint blinks, pours milk for everyone, and listens to the tale. That’s how he ends up with a goat. A week later it’s a brood of chickens and then a month from that it’s a black kitten with one leg missing . 

And that’s how it goes on from there. Natasha and Phil pop in every now and again, even Fury makes an appearance once or twice a year. They all bring gifts for the kids, and there are others after Casey. Some of them need a bed only for a weekend, some stay longer. Casey never leaves. Neither does Eva, who comes, untrusting of women, aged 10, with a scowl and an attitude. Kate, who is 14 and still hangs around all the time, pestering Clint to teach her more trick shots, is a big help with her, a big sister to them all. They try to move Eva into another home, in a more long term solution, but she runs away and comes back to the farm, every time.  
Clint wonders why because she seems to hate everyone, but doesn’t mind. So that’s how he ends up with a brood of animals and two kids by the age 30.

When he’s 32 he gets an urgent call from Nat. She’s in trouble and needs a place to lay low that’s not on any official papers. She also has a few friends with her. Clint thinks quickly. The bigger kids are away at summer camp, Kate is away on a holiday. He only has a three year old, Beau. He doesn’t want to risk the kids, but then again, it’s Nat. He trusts her, still.

“Okay,” he says and can hear the relief in her voice when she thanks him and says she’s coming with two others. They’ll be there sometime in the next three days. Clint hangs up and wonders where his life is going. Then he gets up, feeds the chickens and the goat, before checking up on his little charge. 

“Let’s go to the mall. We need to pick up things for Aunt Nat and friends,” Clint sings, getting her ready for an outing. Lucky follows them around, wagging his tail and getting in the way. His hearing and legs not that good anymore. They leave, Lucky staying behind, looking devastated as always when he’s left alone. 

Clint thinks he’s prepared, he’s got food, the one extra bedroom is ready for visitors and he has set his own bedroom for Nat. He’s going to sleep in the study and be near Beau, like he has done from the moment she came to his house. It’s night and he has just ended the Skype call with Kate, not feeling envious at all at her lovely Caribbean surroundings, when the knock comes. Three taps, a pause, then two, pause and then three again. Their code. Still Clint sneaks to the door and looks through the peephole. It is Nat, as well as two huge figures hulking behind her, obscured by the shadows. Clint opens the door, letting them in and closing the door behind them quickly and quietly. The trio hovers awkwardly in his cluttered entrance.

“Nat. When you said friends I didn’t know you meant the freaking Captain America!” Clint clenches his teeth, trying to not freak out. This was not what he had thought would happen.. Also he totally isn’t appreciating the physique of the two men. No. Not at all. Ok, maybe a bit. God he is desperate.

“Sorry. We need a place to lay low. James here, too.” She gestures at the other man, brunet, handsome, looking out of place and uncertain in a hoodie and a leather jacket. Adorable when considering he could bench press any one of them with ease. Clint sighs, nodding, and scratches his head.

“We’ll discuss this in the morning. You’re tired, I’m tired. Just promise me no one is gonna blow my house up during the night?” Nat steps closer to him, places a hand on his shoulder.

“I promise.” She smiles. It’s reassuring. 

“We were careful making sure we weren’t followed. And we really appreciate this. Mr.?” Captain America, sounding as earnest as he did in the news. 

“Just Clint is fine,” Clint says and offers his hand. Captain America takes it and smiles. A dazzling, white smile. Unfair.

“Steve. And this is… James.” There’s hesitation at the name. Clint might be a retired agent but he can still pick up things. Dealing with children with difficult lives is not that different from intelligence gathering. Less deadly if not less messy. James nods, avoiding eye contact, not offering to shake hands.

“I’ve got a spare room for you two. It’s got two single beds if that’s fine. And Nat can stay in mine.” He looks at them. Cap… Steve smiles and assures him it’s fine. An hour later Clint is laying on his couch, staring at the ceiling, hoping that this won’t ruin everything. 

 

Clint wakes up at 8 am. He’s used to being the first one up but this time as he ventures into the kitchen, putting his hearing aids in, yawning and wishing for coffee, Captain America is there, flipping pancakes and his friend, James sitting and scowling at his coffee cup. Clint stops and stares. They stare back at him. Then Cap- Steve smiles and nods at the plate full of pancakes.

“I hope you don’t mind. We woke up and then didn’t know what to do. So...”

“So, pancakes. No. I mean yes, that’s good. I like pancakes. Not as much as coffee but I like pancakes.” Clint’s monologue turns to mumbling. “I bet Nat is sleeping. She always sleeps in when she’s here.” Scratching at his chin Clint goes to fetch his beloved mug, a gift from Phil (it can hold almost a pint of coffee, a life saviour) and fills it to the brim. He downs half of it, feeling himself coming awake. When he glances up, Steve has gone back to flipping out more and more pancakes and James is starting at him. 

“Doesn’t it burn?” It’s the first time James has spoken. His voice is husky, sounding almost unused and without any inflection, no emotion betrayed by the flat tone. Clint grins and leans against the counter, wanting to appear relaxed, confident in his own kitchen. Even when all of this is stranger than anything else he’s experienced in the last few years.

“I’ve trained my mouth to not repel the life giving elixir that’s coffee.” Clint winks. James’ face goes even more unreadable. 

“Seems like a time wasted,” James muses and Clint’s mood sinks. “Because if you down it in one shot you don’t have time to actually taste it. It’s the taste that’s the best part isn’t it?” James takes a slow slip to drive home his point. Clint grins and toasts with his mug.

“But when I drink the first few mugs in one go, then I’m awake enough to enjoy the rest of the pot.” James looks thoughtful at this new idea. Clint still doesn’t know if he is being messed around with or not. Steve groans. 

“Don’t give him ideas. I have enough problems trying to pry the coffee from his hands as it is.” Steve points a spatula at both of them, threatening. 

“It’s not our problem that you don’t like coffee like it deserves to be adored,” James resists.

“I like coffee! You’re just making it weird,” Steve huffs and accidentally bangs the pan against the oven. Clint winces at the loud noise, then winces again as a heartbreaking wail starts from the bedroom. 

“Shit.” Clint runs out of the kitchen, throwing his mug on the table. He has a minor heart attack when it looks like his coffee mug won’t stay on the table, and is about to go tumbling to the ground, but James catches it before it falls and is just another mess for Clint to clean up. No time to thank him, he has to get to Beau.

Ten seconds flat and he’s scooping the girl out of her toddler crib, shushing her from the moment he opened the door. Beau’s screams quiet down slowly as Clint shushes and talks and walks her around. From the corner of his eyes he can see that the two men have followed him and are staring at them. Both huge, muscled men and both look extremely uncertain about the situation. Apparently he wasn’t the only one alarmed by the screaming toddler. Beau sniffles and quiets down and finally Clint feels comfortable enough to address his guests. 

“This is Beau and these are my friends, Steve and James,” Clint introduces them when they are closer to the door. But Beau sniffles start up again, refusing to look at the strangers. Sighing Clint looks up at. “She doesn’t like strange people. We’re gonna stay here for a bit longer.” He refuses to apologise for her behaviour. It doesn’t seem to be necessary.

“We’ll go finish breakfast then,” Steve smiles and James nods, both shuffling away. 

“Bit more quiet this time,” James adds, closing the door almost completely behind him. Clint spies a glint of metal from his fingers. That’s new. He hadn’t noticed a prosthesis that well made.

Ten minutes later Clint and Beau emerge from the bedroom, her in a fresh diaper and a penguin onesie. 

“Steve made pancakes, Beau. I bet they are delicious,” he explains smiling and sitting her in her own chair. Natasha has apparently woken up due to the noise they made, as the kitchen faucet begins to drip, a telltale sign someone is using the shower. The house does have a few nice quirks that help him even if his hearing isn’t the best. Beau still doesn’t look at anyone else but isn’t sniffling anymore.

“Do you want applesauce or syrup with your pancakes?” Clint asks, getting only babbling in return. “Applesauce it is then.”

“I didn’t know you had kids. Natasha didn’t say anything,” Steve sits and sips his coffee, half finished plate of pancakes in front of him. 

“Beau is new. She’s just a temporary placement until they can find something more suited and permanent for her. I haven’t spoken to Natasha in a while, and the other kids are away for few weeks so it’s likely she didn’t know,” Clint explains, cutting up pancakes and spooning applesauce on them.

“She’s not yours then?” 

“Nah. I foster when needed and have two kids who are in their teens now.” He presents the plate to Beau with a flourish. As a thank you she throws one piece at him, giggling. 

“No, sweetie the food goes into your mouth, not mine,” Clint admonishes and snatches the next thrown piece from the air. “We can go throw ball around after you eat. You need to eat to grow big and to throw far.” Clint flexes. Beau looks at him, considering, and points to James and Steve. 

“Bigger!” She actually speaks up and Clint can’t hold back his grin. 

“That’s because they’ve eaten all of their pancakes. Look at their piles.” Clint gestures and Steve makes big show of stuffing his face full of pancakes. James on the other hand, nods solemnly. 

“Three!” She smiles and points to James’ pile, that’s still almost untouched. 

“There’s at least three yes. How about you start on your pile and we’ll see if you can finish yours because there’s no way they can eat that much at once.” Clint smirks and Beau looks thoughtful. 

“Fat.”

“Yes, you can get fat if you eat too much. But it’s not a bad thing, if you do.” Clint feels himself sinking. Three year olds are better at talking than him. Thankfully that seems to be enough and Beau digs into her food, most of it even going to her mouth. Feeling exhausted already he sits down and starts eating his own breakfast, the coffee gone cold but as nourishing as ever. The breakfast table is mostly chit chat after that. Clint tells about his kids and home, Steve talks about what their plans might be. James is mostly silent, watching Clint. Every now and then he pokes a few stray pieces of food towards Beau. She’s sceptical but after a few more times appears to accept her new servant.

\-----

Later Beau sits on a blanket outside throwing a ball to Lucky, the old dog fetching it dutifully, albeit slowly. Nat had stolen Steve to ‘go do reconnaissance’ as well as to get supplies. James had been left behind, with scowls and silence. The man stands in the shadows under the awning of the porch, watching as Clint putters around, feeding the animals, keeping an eye on the kid at the same time. After a while he runs to the kitchen, fetches a sippy cup for Beau and two soda bottles for the adults. James accepts his, silently nodding his thanks. 

“Are you going to tell me why you are here? I know why Nat escaped D.C. but why you? You were not part of the New York team and I haven’t seen you anywhere else. On top of that there’s the issue of your arm.” Clint keeps his voice low, friendly, his eyes never leaving the playing kid and dog. He feels how James freezes next to him.

“I’m not going to be a danger,” James says, low, rumbling, almost a defeated note in his voice this time. Clint nods.

“I know that. Nat would never have brought you here otherwise. Let alone left you behind.” Clint sips at his drink, hoping to convey nonchalance and just overall friendliness. It doesn’t help. James is still stiff and wary beside him.

“I don’t know what you want to know,” James says. Clint shrugs.

“How do you know Nat and Captain, I guess. You seem like a regular human, except for…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead opting for tapping at his own left arm. James grimaces and pulls his sleeve down. 

“I thought it was well hidden.” 

“It would have been. But I have good eyes. Was part of SHIELD at one point you know.”

“No. I didn’t. Why did you choose this then?” 

“Had an accident.” Clint taps his ears where the clunky, everyday hearing aids are visible, “ Wanted a new life after that. Bought the farm and renovated it. Then the kids kinda just happened.” He lets out a laugh, sweeps back his hair, probably tousling it up more. Clint is aware of the intense stare he’s under but chooses to act nonchalant. He’s grown good at it. “First they just came to hang around when life at home came to be too much. Then a few of them needed a more permanent sanctuary. So, I did what I could and maybe I was doing the right thing since they refused to leave.” He sips his soda, looking at James. He meets grey eyes looking at him, expression unreadable even to him. 

“And now you offer sanctuary to us.” 

“Well. Yeah. Nat asked and I trust her. And then you two were with her. I’m not going to turn away Captain America and someone like you who clearly needs a break from the world. Nice change of subject by the way.” Clint grins. James looks like he’s about to say something but Beau starts a wail, demanding, edging on temper tantrum and Clint shrugs, vaults over the railing and is by her side in seconds. 

\------------------------------------------------

That night it’s shepard's pie night. Partly because it’s one of Clint’s specialties, partly because his guests eat a lot. Nat helps by looking after Beau, painting her nails with some kind of kid friendly polish, and watching disney movies. Not Robin Hood, which bums Clint out (it’s his favourite) but some of the new ones that he doesn’t know. It seems to be to Beau’s liking though. Surprisingly Beau had taken a liking to Nat, even if she didn’t like strangers. Clint guessed it was because she was calm, pretty and had red hair. Steve is reading something on a laptop, occasionally going over to show Natasha a paragraph or two. Clint stays out of it, it’s easier if he doesn’t even try to understand what’s going on outside his little bubble of peaceful farm life. And James. James sits by the table and watches him cook. After a while Clint grows uneasy with the way the sharp, grey eyes follow his movements all the time and hands the man a knife and a pile of vegetables.

“I bet you’re good with knives, so make yourself useful and whip up the salad,” Clint orders with a grin, handing the knife with a flourish. James looks at him, then at the knife, taking it and throws it in the air with a flick of a wrist. It twirls, fast but is snatched by the handle before Clint can actually fear for his or James’ health.

“I guess I can manage,” James grins and Clint’s heart skips a beat. It’s a nice grin, makes James’ face younger, beautiful.

“Yeah, well… Just don’t cut anything living.” Clint scratches at his nose and turns quickly before he’s in more trouble. He’s desperate, he knows that. Living for only his farm and for his kids the last ten years is finally taking a toll, if he’s lusting after the first available person that comes into his life. Pathetic. Sighing the goes back to the the food, roasting the meat and making the mashed potatoes. For a while it’s quiet and cosy, the only noises the tv, Steve’s tapping on keyboard and the chopping, clanking and sizzling in the kitchen. 

“You need to put in more cheese. It’s better that way.” The voice in his ear makes Clint screech, throw down his ladle and spin around. James stands there, their chests almost touching, looking amused and not backing away at all. They stare at each other. 

“Everything okay?” Steve asks from the living room, hidden from view.

“Yeah. Clint here is just a scaredy cat,” James answers, smirking. Bastard.

“I’m almost deaf. Don’t sneak up on me.” Clint glares, hitting a hoodie covered chest with his fist. It doesn’t even get a huff out of James.

“I didn’t. You need more help?” James cocks his head. Clint’s eyes flick to his mouth, unconsiously. 

“Umm... You can whip the cream?” Clint suggests, makes a vague hand gesture towards the fridge. “I’m making brownies as soon as I get this in the oven.” They stare at each other. Clint resist the urge to shift on his feet.

“I like brownies,” James says and goes to rummage in the fridge. Clint sighs a breath of relief and goes back to his cooking. He adds more cheese before throwing the pan into the hot oven.

It’s easier after that. A few days go by quickly. They all become friendlier, their co-habiting gets easier. James still tactfully evades everything personal but is nice company nevertheless. Steve is almost effortlessly apple pie in his friendliness and handiness around the farm. Clint guesses it’s only half an act. Nat is Nat. There was a time when they lived in each other’s pockets and slipping back into their easy going life is as effortless as ever. 

Having other adults in the house is rather nice, Clint thinks sipping his coffee and sitting on the porch. Steve, who is not Captain America after Clint had seen him drink beer on his porch and argue about baseball, has grown weirdly fond of the farm work. Clint thinks that there isn’t anyone who doesn’t enjoy watching Steve have at a pile of wood, chopping firewood like a champ. Clint doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he only uses the old fireplace for aesthetic and mood during winter. Especially christmas. Clint sighs and glances at James who’s sitting on a lounge chair, book in hand. It would be nice to cuddle with someone that was not his kid. He sighs and hides his face in his coffee cup as James glances back at him. Busted. Beau giggles and throws a stick to Lucky, who dutifully fetches it even though it only lands a few feet away. It might be that Lucky wouldn’t be up to more strenuous activity anyway. Nat had thrown all three off them out cheerfully as she deemed that today was her day in the kitchen. Clint doesn’t mind, the autumn air is crispy and it might go to freezing soon but for now it's nice. 

“Put your back into it, Rogers!” James yells as Steve throws another chopped log onto the pile. Steve, after making sure Beau wasn’t watching, flips him off. James chuckles and they watch for a few moments as Steve exaggerates the chopping. Clint takes the chance and moves closer to James, making sure to keep in Beau’s sight.

“How do you know each other?” He asks, still drinking his coffee, though he only has few sips left and needs to come up with a few security actions soon. James thinks for a long moment, eyes on Clint, thinking.

“I was there…” He starts but stops, face going emotionless. Clint’s stomach drops and he tries to save the situation the only way he knows how. By making a joke.

“You were there three thousand years ago? When Isildur took the ring?” Quoting Lord of the Rings as he’s seen the movies at least once a year since Casey discovered them. James looks at him, uncomprehending.

“You know. Lord of the Rings?” Clint tries to save face, a blush starting to creep on. 

“A what now?” 

“You know. Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit and the seriously long movie series they made from few books.” Clint tries to explain, he’s read The Hobbit to Casey and the others but the second book was a bit too much for him. James' eyes widen.

“They made a movie about the hobbit?”

“Yeah, three of them. And three of the sequels,” Clint explains. How doesn’t James know about them? They were the biggest thing a few years back, there’s no way they could have not known about them. 

“There’s a sequel?” James asks, grinning, standing up and clearly excited.

“Yeah? I have all six extended movies back there.” Clint scratches his cheek as James steps closer.

“Can we watch them? I can remember reading the book,” James looks eager which makes him transform from intimidating but handsome to cute. Clint’s wariness turns to a grin.

“Sure. If we watch all of them that will take a few days easy. But we need to start with The Rings, The hobbit was made later and is almost sequalish because of that.” James nods, shrugs.

“I don’t care. I just want to see what they did with them. Oi, Steve!” he turns and yells, Steve stops, axe raised up. “We’re going to go watch movies. They made a movie about the Hobbit and it’s sequels!” James yells, stepping around Clint, one hand trailing on his waist as not to bump into him. It makes chills go up his back. Steve puts the axe down.

“There was a sequel?” Steve yells back and Beau starts to screeching as well, joining the overall excitement. It’s better than crying. As they go inside Clint remembers that James still hasn’t answered any of his personal questions.

\---

Nat stares at the three of them. Something is boiling behind her, and the carving knight in her hand looks threatening, covered in bits of beetroot as it is.

“Sure, if I had known you were fans of Tolkien I’d have made sure to show them to you earlier.” She looks at the mess in Clint’s kitchen and then back. “I still have a few more things to do,” she gestures behind her,” so pause when Arwen shows up. It’s when shit gets interesting.”

“Language, Nat,” Clint admonishes, looking pointedly at Beau. Nat does look apologising but whatever she was going to say next is left as only a thought as something starts boiling over behind her. Muttering curses, thankfully in Russian this time, she shoos them away from the kitchen. Ushering the two men, Lucky with his wagging tail and trying to trip them, Clint carries Beau to the living room. 

“The movies are over on the bookshelf. I need to grab things for Beau, it’s really not meant for her age.” 

“I’m sure we can manage to set it up,” Steve assures him and Clint leaves them to it. 

He comes back with a box full of toys, a blanket thrown over his shoulder and Beau hanging from his arm. The movie is on, showing the part with the fireworks and the introduction of Merri and Pippin. Clint lets Beau watch that part, but thankfully she loses interest when the fun stops and everyone starts talking. Clint hops over the couch, squeezing into the small space left on it. He follows the movie with one eye, the other on the kid happily playing with a tea set and a few hand-me down stuffies. James is sitting in the middle and Steve at the other end, both seemingly completely engrossed with the movie. They comment on things that they recognize but almost all of it is new and exciting and they seem to turn into a couple of kids, bickering and arguing about this and that. It almost comes to physical shoving but Natasha is on top of everything again and calls for dinner. They sit at the table, eat, and then go back to the movie. Clint takes the time to bathe and put Beau to bed. When he comes back, there are beers on the table as well as a bucket of popcorn. Natasha is sitting between the men, arms crossed. 

“I’m keeping the peace. There was a fight about who’s hotter. Aragorn or Legolas,” Natasha explains. James turns, eyes half lidded, lazy, with a grin on his face.

“Steve doesn’t understand that archers win by default,” he says and Clint makes a strangled noise in his throat. The situation gets worse as the three squeeze and make space for him between the armrest and Bucky's right side. It’s tight, comfortable and warm. The beer is cold and they share a camaraderie that he has missed since his retirement. After more shuffling James curses and throws an arm over the backrest. When Clint moves the fingers tickle at his neck. During the final run out of Moria, Clint sits back and the fingers brush his hair, comforting. It gives him too many ideas of where this attraction could go. The movie ends and they go to bed. Tossing and turning Clint dreams of grey eyes and a wicked grin.

 

Clint wakes at 3AM on the spot like he has for a long time now. Silently he slips on a ratty t-shirt, giving Lucky a pat, as the mut sleeps obliviously on the dog bed fashioned from old couch cushions and Clint’s t-shirts. The door doesn’t creak anymore, it was a too obvious sign that he was awake, when he slips through it and along the corridor. He’s almost to Beau’s room when he notices the light in the living room. Clint stops, unsure what to do. Checking on Beau is a nightly ritual but then again, someone else is awake at this hour. A witching hour according to Nat’s bedtime stories. Clint isn't sure stories about darkness and witches and the unexplainable are good for kids but the older kids have always been drawn to every word she tells. He hopes his stories would be as entrancing, if not read from a book his stories only gets huffs and ‘sure, dad’. Unfair really. Making up his mind he decides to check on the person in the living room. Beau hasn’t made a sound, the baby monitor at his side would tell him if she were to cry, so he can spare a few moments and check what’s going on in his living room. Still sneaking he turns the corner, expecting… he’s not sure what actually. What he finds is James bundled up in a blanket, cup of something steaming in his hands. Watching the second hobbit film. It’s just started because Clint remembers the bear scene. And he might have had a crush on the man the bear turns into. He must make a noise because James turns and their eyes meet. It’s quiet, Clint shuffles his feet, unsure what to say. 

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” It’s James who breaks the awkward silence of the night. The movie continues to run in the background.

“Nah. I was up anyway just curious who was up.” Clint shuffles a bit more. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Also I really wanted to see what they did with the Hobbit.” He waves his mug at the TV.

“What do you think?” Clint asks, stepping closer, leans against the back of the couch with his elbows. James makes a ‘meh’ sound.

“It’s not bad. It’s just…”

“Missing something.”

“Right.” Silence. James lifts the edge of his blanket. “Want to come here? It’s freezing.” It is, Clint’s skin is covered in goosebumps. 

“I need to check on Beau first. Want anything?” he asks and James shakes his head, pausing the movie.

“I’m fine. I’ll wait.” 

Beau is asleep. It’s the fifth night in a row where she hasn’t woken up in a panic. It’s been a process but seeing her cuddled into her own bed with a night light illuminating the room in soft bluish glow makes Clint smile. He glances around, making sure everything is good before slipping out again. Ms. Jenkins should call in the next week with more news about what will happen to her. Clint plans to put glow-in-the-dark stars above her bed if she stays for longer. 

The movie is still paused and James lifts his blanket wordlessly for Clint to slip under. They’re not touching but with the blanket and the body heat between them it’s almost toasty.

“Everything alright?” James asks, un-pausing the movie, eyes on the screen.

“Yeah. I’m just paranoid. Ever since they gave me Casey to look after I’ve had to check on them. I mean. Who’s stupid enough to let me look after these kids?” Clint explains, voice low.

“The state of Iowa it seems. I don’t know much about kids but it seems you’ve done a good job.” James' voice is low, gravelly. Clint watches him more than the movie, even with Beorn on the screen. 

“I guess so. Still hard to believe. I mean, it was kind of an accident. This life I mean,” Clint huffs out a laugh. 

“How so?” James asks, turning to him and looking at Clint. His eyes are not ice blue but the gray is captivating. Or maybe it’s just James. Or maybe it just means that Clint’s celibacy is finally taking a toll on him. Whatever the reason, he ends up telling James everything about himself. James listens, offering only sympathetic noises to his stories. When Clint tells how he lost his hearing, James leans forward, squeezing his hand. Clint sighs, offers a wide smile and tells the rest. 

“And that’s how I’ve ended with a farm and kids and animals in the middle of nowhere. Now to just find a nice husband and my life could be lifetime movie.” Clint jokes and gets a huff of laugh for a reward.

“It’s interesting that’s for sure. But you don’t have any complaints?” 

“No. I love it here. The mundanity of it, the fact I can help kids when I never got help. I’m satisfied.” Clint shrugs, horribly aware of his sweaty hand and the fact James is still holding it.

“I’m starting to see why. It seems like the world can’t touch anything in here.”

“Yeah… You’re welcome to stay if you want to?” Clint makes the offer with his heart in his throat. He’s been abandoned and rejected so many times, it shouldn’t be this hard to expect anything different now. James sucks in a breath, looking stunned, surprised.

“I…” He pauses, licks his lips and starts to say something else but the screaming from both the bedroom and Clint’s baby monitor makes them jump apart with haste. 

“I’m sorry. Watch the rest of the movie. Sorry for this,” Clint grimaces, stumbling from under the blanket and running for the toddler’s room, leaving James alone. Beau screams and cries and is holding her arms up for him to pick her up. He does. 

An hour later he’s sleeping in his lumpy, comfy couch, Lucky covering his feet and Beau cradled in his arms. 

Next morning there’s a shift in the way James behaves. He’s always on hand when Clint needs help. He’s all smiles at him in the morning, when Clint himself is half asleep and not completely there yet, a coffee cup ready for him. He’s taken a liking to feeding the zoo of animals that Clint has, including the chickens even if the rooster really doesn’t like his metal, shining hand. Clint likes it, likes James. But he still hasn’t gotten a straight answer as to who he is, and what’s up with him being old pals with Captain fucking America. 

“I’m not sure I mind,” Clint explains to Natasha, one evening when the other adults are out on a food run again. He has Beau in his lap, bouncing her, making her laugh. “I like that he’s hanging around. I’d just like to know why.” 

Nat just hums and sips her glass of wine.

“Have you asked him?” She knows something that she’s not sharing. Clint shrugs.

“He doesn’t really seem to like answering me anything. He changes subject or something interrupts us.”

“Ask him. Corner him if you have to. I’m not here to solve your problems.” She sips from her glass. If Clint didn’t know her better wouldn’t notice the evil glint in her eyes.

“What are you doing here then?”

“Drinking your watery wine and working on my tan.”

“It’s like twenty degrees out there.” 

“Weakling.”

It takes a few more days, a few more nights not exactly cuddling until everything is lined up perfectly for them. It starts with Clint going upstairs to collect laundry when he happens upon a discussion between James and Steve. Clint doesn’t mean to eavesdrop but he can’t help himself. As soon as he hears the voices of Steve and James in a heated discussion, he stops breathing and stands silently on his feet. They’re around the corner in the upstairs ‘lounge’ area. 

“What are you doing, Bucky?”

“Flirting. Am I that awful these days that you couldn’t tell?”

“You’re the same as ever. It’s more of a why and not how question.” Steve sounds exasperated.

“I like him. He’s nice to be around, his jokes are awful and this place is amazing. It feels like another universe.” James pauses. “Also his ass and arms are to die for. And have you seen his freckles?”

“Have you seen his farmers tan?”

“That can be worked on. Should run around without a shirt more often anyway. I can make that happen.”

“Bucky, you’re the Winter soldier. We’re safe for now but if you stick around for too long something bad is bound to happen.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be the Winter Soldier anymore. Haven’t I done enough?” There is pain in his voice and Clint’s heart clenches.

“You can’t just abandon the world…”

“Why not? The world abandoned me! I just want to be left alone. Besides, Clint quit the world saving business as well.” James is almost shouting now. Clint hears a rustle of clothing, the sound of something hitting against a wall.

“So you imprinted on the first possible guy that you came across?” Silence. “This isn’t the first time you’ve met, is it?” Silence. Clint holds his breath.

“No. I guess it was about fifteen, twenty years ago? My memories are a bit hazy. Met this cocky kid on the rooftops in… Kuala Lumpur, perhaps. He took my kill. Grinned and laughed at me, before blowing a kiss and somersaulting from the roof.” James explains, soft laugh between words. Clint grimaces. Sounds like him. He remembers the encounter. He had been terrified out of his mind. The other assassin had been bigger, stronger and better equipped but Clint had gotten the shot and had gotten away. Clint always thought that he had gotten away easy, had been 18 at the time. 

“Ok. So what do you actually want to do?” Steve asks, not as frustrated anymore. “You can’t just put that kind of pressure on him. Clint has his own life, kids and shit.” James snorts.

“I know that. I was gonna ask him but you couldn’t leave this alone, could you?” 

“I care about you. I lost you for a long time and…”

“I know but I just… can’t right now. I need to get my head straight, do what I want for a change.” Silence, rustling of clothing. “I’ll be there if you need me but please, I need time away.”

“What if he doesn’t want you here?”

“Then I’ll figure something else out.” Silence. Clint bites his thumb to keep quiet. 

“I trust you Bucky. And I will support your decision, whatever it is.” 

“Get off, you big lump.” Clint wants to escape, he needs to think, needs to wrap his head around all this. Yes, he had been flirting with James quite heavily but this information… He doesn't know what to do. It isn’t that he is opposed to actually spending more time with James, getting to know him better. But he has kids, a farm, a front to put up and harboring ex-assassins on a regular basis would look bad on his resume at the foster care agency. But then again, it is James and Clint has been alone for a long time, has lived for everyone else almost all of his life. Can’t he get one thing by being selfish? Being deaf and buried in his own thoughts Clint misses the sound of approaching footsteps until Steve rounds the corner, stops and stares at him. Clint lets out a yelp, covers his mouth with his hands, only to end up punching himself in the nose. Steve snorts.

“I think you two need to talk.”

“I don’t... I don’t know what to say,” Clint confesses, hands dropping from his face but crosses his arms quickly, fidgety and nervous. Steve shrugs.

“Just say what you want. Tiptoeing around him has never been a good idea.” 

“Ok. Thanks,” Clint says, mind already elsewhere. On James. He leaves Steve there, climbing the steps to the loft. James is there, frowning, looking at the floor but not surprised to see him. 

“I thought eavesdropping was still thought to be rude.”

“I was dropping no eaves, sir, honest,” Clint quotes back, trying to smile. He gets a huff back and counts it as a win. 

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” Bucky says. 

“You like me anyway,” Clint grins and dares to step closer. This is going better than he had thought. 

“I… I don’t know. My life is a mess.” James looks up, half hearted shrug.

“So is mine,”Clint matches the shrug.

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

“Well, it’s more put together than it was when I was 18 but that’s because I have kids. I have to act like an adult.”

“Well.. You are doing a good job, I don’t want to mess it up.” Somewhere in the time Clint had climbed the stairs James seemed to have done a complete 180 in attitude. Ten years ago Clint would have let it go. But not anymore, somewhere between doing a respectable job and raising kids he had accidentally grown up.

“But I want you to.” Clint drops his arms, steps forward and lays a hand on James’ shoulder. “I like you. I want you to stay here, or at least visit as much as possible. Also,” Clint says with a grin, “I’d really like to kiss you, even if neither of us is ready for sleeping together.” James blushes but smiles now.

“I’ve done awful things. I’ve been brainwashed for the last… A long time. I have nightmares and I’m not wholly human anymore,” James lists off and Clint huffs, as if any of that would be enough to deter him. He’d always been stubborn.

“I don’t care. Or I mean, I care because it sounds awful but it doesn’t make me run to the hills.” 

“I’m significantly older than you. I was born in 1917.” James looks like he’s readying himself for a slap to the face.

“I look older than you. Besides, it only means you can do all the heavy lifting,” Clint steps even closer, both hands on James’ shoulders. He’s shorter than James, not by much but enough that he can easily meet his eyes when they start to turn down. 

“Like what?”

“Like me,” Clint winks and James laughs, bending down. The kiss is not unexpected but it still gets him off guard. Clint thought he’d have to do more coaxing. But he’s glad to kiss back, arms rounding around James’ shoulders, one hand tangling in his long hair. It’s a bit more than one kiss but it’s bordering on chaste the entire time. Still new, still feeling around each other. Still unsure how they clicked together so well.

“I still want my own room, for now,” James whispers against Clint’s ear, hugging tight.

“That’s fine. We can paint a Captain America Shield on the wall.”

“I hate you.” James grumbles and Clint laughs, leaning back so he can kiss James again. It’s even better the more they do it.

“No you don’t.”

“No I don’t.”

 

\-------------------------------------------

James sits at the table, Clint serving him and Beau breakfast when the kids run in. Stopping dead on their tracks they stare. James stares back. Beau blinks, throws her food down and starts to cry. Clint grins, apologetic, takes the toddler in his arms and goes to hug and kiss all three.

“Welcome home, I accidentally these two.”

“Dad, that’s not how the saying goes,” Casey whines, staring at James with huge eyes. James, who sits by the table, Black Widow mug in hand, in a sleeveless top. James stares back. Clint sighs, rolls his eyes. This is getting too awkward too fast.

“Sit down and stuff your face with food so you can’t talk back to your elders.” Clint smiles as he rocks and shushes Beau. They do because somehow they are good kids. “This little thing is Beau, she’s staying with us for now.”

“And the big thing?” Kate asks, grinning like a shark with a potential kill in sight.

“The big thing is called James. He’s also going to be here for a while.” Clint introduces and gives them a stern look. “Usual house rules apply here. No nosing on things that make others uncomfortable and to be nice to the new people.” 

“James is an old people’s name,” Casey complains eyeing the man on the other side of the table with disapproval. “And he’s a cyborg. I don’t trust him.” Before Clint can admonish his kid James puts down his mug and shrugs, splaying his metal hand on the table.

“You can call me Bucky if that’s better.” He very carefully doesn’t look at Clint. Eve gasps, leaning over the table.

“Like Captain America’s sidekick?” she asks. Clint turns around, hiding his face as he’s about to burst into a full blown laugh. Beau watches him disapprovingly as he’s no longer paying her as much attention as before.

“Yeah. Just like Cap’s sidekick,” James answers and Clint’s shoulders shake and his stomach hurts from keeping in the laughter.

“I guess Dad can keep you then. Always wanted a big brother,” Casey says, grabbing apple juice and spilling it all over the table as he pours. 

“At least I’m big enough to clean up after you,” James says as he stands up and gets a rag to clean the table. He doesn’t look at the kids, though, as he says it. He looks straight at Clint, soft smile on his face.

Clint’s heart flutters as he laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a interesting project to write. While usually I'm the one deciding what happens but this time I had guidelines and a feeling of the image that I hope I conveyed properly. 
> 
> Also all the LotR stuff was written into it because I wanted to get the one joke working. And then it became a thing :)
> 
> Thank you all for reading and especially big hug for Placna for the 'prompt' and for Tanouska and Ava for reading and editing all of my messy writing :)


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